Copyright © 1988, by Rev. Ivan Stang.
There are three kinds of people—I call them Larrys, Curlys, and Moes. The Larrys don't even know that there are three types; if they're told, it's an abstraction, because they cannot imagine anything beyond Larry-ness. The Curlys know about it, and recognize it as a pecking order, but find ways of living with it cheerfully ... for they are the imaginative, creative ones. The Moes not only know about it, but exploit and perpetuate it.
Among the listees in this book [High Weirdness by Mail], the naive, pleasant New Agers and "nice" UFO contactees, for instance, are Larrys (as are normals at large)—ineffectual, well-meaning do-gooders destined always to be victims, often without once guessing their status. Like sheep, they don't want to hear the unpleasant legends about "the slaughterhouse"; they trust the strange two-legged beings who feed them. The artists, unsung scientific geniuses, political writers, and earnest disciples of the stranger cults are Curlys—engaging, original, accident-prone but full of life, and intuitively aware of the Moe forces plotting against them and trying to fight back. They can never defeat the Moes, however, without becoming Moes, which is impossible for a true Curly. The Moes, then, are the fanatics, the ranters, the cult gurus, the Uri Gellers AND the Debunkers; they are the Resistance Leaders and the Ruling Class Bankers, both. They hate each other, but only because they want to control ALL the Larrys and Curlys themselves. They don't actually enjoy their dominance; it's simply part of their nature. Nor are they any less foolish for the fact that they make the decisions. They suffer a chronic paranoia that is unknown to their less demanding underlings. Larrys and Curlys die in wars started by rival Moes—the Larrys willingly, the Curlys with great regret. Concepts like "Hell" and "Sin" were invented by Moes to keep Larrys in line; the Larrys, in turn, being far more numerous, exert social pressures on the Curly minority to also obey ... mainly so the Larrys won't feel like suckers.
The Moes also invent myths, like that of the "Grouchos, Harpos, Chicos, and Zeppos," to throw the more rebellious Curlys off their trail and keep them unsure of the real situations.*
I am a Moe, though not a particularly powerful one; that is why I know these things, and it is also why I dare to tell you—for most of you will think it's just a funny joke. A few will know it is the truth, but will fight far harder against my Moe enemies than you will against me, a relatively harmless Moe. My fellow Moes—enemies and uneasy SubGenius allies alike—will know what I'm REALLY saying, and chuckle in appreciation while plotting my downfall. In vain. ALL in VAIN, boy...